The Abattoir

Written by Anonymous, 3rd-prize winner

CW: Attempted violence, cannibalism

The red door stands dauntingly in front of you. You feel a hand snake up around yours, and you turn to see your boyfriend smile reassuringly.

‘What if they hate me?’ You ask for the millionth time.

‘They’ll love you,’ he answers for the millionth time, ‘they don’t bite,’ he chuckles.

You try to conjure a genuine smile, but you feel the corner of your lips wobble. He brings your entwined hand up to his lips and kisses it, then, with his free hand he presses the doorbell.

You knew your boyfriend’s parents owned a butcher shop, you didn’t, however, expect them to have an abattoir in their residential home, just off the kitchen.

‘Fresh cut meat is just next level,’ your boyfriend’s father, John, explains as he shows you the white tile covered room.

The room smells of bleach and raw meat, and you could feel bile rise in your stomach. Then, John talks you through the different animals they have on meat hooks, sifting through the bodies like clothes on a rack. Thankfully, he moves on to other, more normal, parts of the house and finishes his tour in the dining room where his wife, Jane, just finished dressing the table.

You take a seat across from your boyfriend, next to his parents, and begin having pleasant conversations about the things you know they enjoy – you’d made sure to interrogate your boyfriend thoroughly on the subject. Your boyfriend looks proudly at you, you smile coyly and sip your wine.

‘You know, doll,’ John drawls out, ‘our son here,’ he clasps his son’s shoulder, ‘rarely brings a girl back to meet the folks. You must really be special.’

You feel yourself blush, maybe from the wine, and, without further thought, you bring up the fact that your boyfriend never talks about his ex-girlfriends.

‘They were all lovely girls,’ Jane answers gently, ‘They simply didn’t suit our tastes,’ she smiles lightly, sips her wine, and makes eye contact with her husband across.

You frown at her slightly, but don’t question further. Soon after, you feel the effects of all that wine on your bladder and excuse yourself.

When you immerge back from the bathroom to the dining room, you find it empty and the table cleared. You call for your boyfriend and he calls back from the kitchen. Inside the kitchen, you find your boyfriend and his parents dressed in rubber aprons and gloves. You chuckle nervously at their outfit change and your boyfriend strides over to you.

‘We thought you might like to learn how to butcher, since it’s so important to our family,’ your boyfriend smiles at you and brushes rubber-covered fingers at the side of your face. You shiver. ‘Think of it as a bonding experience,’ he whispers to you through his smile. You slowly nod, and Jane hands you some gloves and an apron.

Once you’ve put them on, the family takes you to their abattoir. John brings out a set of knives and inspects them, while your boyfriend pulls one of the meat-hooked bodies to the centre of the room. John hands his wife a knife and she gestures for you to move closer to her. Once you do, she traces a finger onto the meat, showing you the cut she’s going to make. Then, she positions the knife for the cut, and... and everything goes fuzzy.

When you wake up, it’s to the sound of harsh conversation close by, by the sounds of it, John is scolding his wife for not preparing something... knives? You hear Jane’s profusive apologies and your boyfriend trying to mediate the situation. Your body is sore and feels so heavy, and your head hurts immensely. You feel the entirety of your skin exposed to the cold, sterile air. When you finally manifest enough energy to open your eyes, you are blinded by white light, and you find that you are upside down. You can’t feel your feet, but you presume that they’re bound and you are suspending from a meat hook. Your head is pounding, you feel faint, then, you startle from the shink of a blade.

‘Are you ready to bleed her, son,’ John’s voice is still the same tone it had been earlier at dinner, you can’t see him, but you can imagine his hand clasped the same way as before, his gaze supportive and hopeful.

‘What if I mess up?’ your boyfriend asks nervously, in a way that you once found endearing.

‘You’ll have plenty of opportunities to practice,’ John’s voice was warm and kind, and in any other situation it would have been a lovely display; but now, your boyfriend, actually, your ex-boyfriend, is bringing a knife to your throat. There’s a clatter of metal in the background and you jump.

‘Jane!’ John roars and begins scolding his wife once more.

You’re shaking, you can hear the hook shaking with you. You know he knows you’re

awake. You can feel his eyes on you. When you open your own, you meet his intensely latent soul; and when you cry, his gaze seems to shift, like an iceberg melting. Suddenly, you are back to being face to face with the man you fell in love with; adorned with the same soft, squinty look and shy smile. Your heart is pounding, like it was trying to rip through your chest and nestle itself with his: to appeal to it and warm it.

His soul hides away as he raises his knife. You shut your eyes. Your body tenses. Suddenly, you’re on the floor.

Your legs fail you, but he doesn’t. He picks you up and runs out the door. You can hear John shouting after you, and you nestle close to him. When you reach a nearby park, he begins to slow down, only to get a foot caught in a tree root and causing the both of you to tumble to the ground.

Having regained control of your legs, you immediately crawl away from him. He pounces at you, only to stumble again. You stare at him, in the park light. You see his soul struggle for dominance. As he struggles, you slowly crawl away and he doesn’t stop you.

End.